


You've Made It Harder to Just Go On

by blueandbrady



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 13:17:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueandbrady/pseuds/blueandbrady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently being high makes Louis curious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've Made It Harder to Just Go On

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this week's "under the influence" challenge on [Livejournal](http://bestboys.livejournal.com/1865.html)! It's cleaned up comment!fic.

Harry watches Louis' hand settle warm and solid on his thigh and furrows his brow. Louis is tactile but generally not with Harry, not anymore, not even alone. He flexes his thigh just to see what Louis will do.

Louis slides his hand up higher, and Harry's frown deepens.

His cock starts to stir without permission; Louis' hand is hot and really close and all Harry's got on are his threadbare jeans with holes in the knees. He shifts on the bed, tries to take pressure off it without drawing attention. He doesn't want to scare Louis away when it's rare enough that he's here and not with Liam or Zayn. "What, uh. What are you doing?"

Louis keeps watching his hand, rubbing back and forth rhythmically. "Thinking. Wondering." His fingers press into the meat of Harry's thigh, probably turning the skin white then back to pink underneath the jeans.

When Harry found him, Louis was staring at the lock mechanism on the door to his hotel room for a solid thirty seconds unblinkingly and reeked so strongly of weed that Harry can only imagine what's on his mind. "About?"

The air conditioning is the only sound in the room as Louis' hand becomes more adventurous and curves around the inner part of Harry's thigh. He shifts again, dick swelling the more Louis gropes around, and feels guilty that he's enjoying this. Louis is stoned. He doesn't realize what he's doing.

Eventually Louis says, "Things people think we've done," and Harry tenses. That. He knows Louis doesn't mean as a band. 

"You're high," Harry says aloud because Louis is. It feels like that's important to mention.

"Mhm," Louis agrees easily, and moves his hand higher. His thumb bumps against Harry's cock, and Harry jerks away from it. 

"Lou." Harry swallows, mouth dry. "You don't really –"

"Shh," Louis says, and wiggles his thumb, forehead creased in concentration, and Harry bites his lip, shutting up.

Harry's head is a mess of incoherent words and images. He had a plan at one time for if this ever happened, but he's not thought about it in a long, long while. Thought that window had passed for good.

Louis doesn't take his eyes off his hand as he cups Harry. Harry spreads his legs, giving both his dick and Louis room, and leans his head back, careful not to make any sudden movements that might scare Louis off. He closes his eyes, breathes through his nose, and lets Louis feel him out. Louis' hand is gentle, hesitant, curved around where Harry's cock punches out the material, and Harry sucks on his own tongue, lets himself enjoy it in case it ends at any moment. 

Louis rubs a finger along the zipper and Harry hisses, cock pressing uncomfortably against the teeth. He wishes he were already naked. The one time he isn't, this is what he gets. But then Louis is slowly dragging the zipper down and Harry's cock springs free, slapping into Louis' hand. Harry could cry in relief. Louis' hand looks even smaller than usual curling around Harry's cock and it just turns Harry on more, making him throb in Louis' grip. That isn't doing anything. He whines, can't help it.

Louis laughs like he's amused with the whole situation then says, "Christ, this is unnecessary," as he slides his hand up the length and then back down.

"Don't insult my dick while it's in your hand please," Harry says and not _you started it_. "That's rude."

"You're rude," Louis says, then finally starts moving his hand.

His grip is tight and he favors the head with his whole palm and Harry wonders if this is how he wanks himself. He'd love to see -- love to see right _now_ \-- but doesn't ask in case that's where this imaginary line is that Louis' drawn, so he pants and tips his head onto Louis' shoulder instead, doesn't think about how all it would take is a small twist of his neck and they could be kissing, really kissing, not the silly for a joke kind they've done before. He can't believe he's getting a handjob from Louis before a real kiss. 

Louis alternates between jerking him like he means it, making Harry whine and squeeze his eyes shut, and barely touching him at all, fingers feeling him curiously. It's maddening and _just like Louis_. 

"Louis," Harry groans, and bites Louis' shoulder.

Louis laughs, and kisses the top of Harry's head. "Fine," he says, smearing precome around with his thumb, and picks the pace back up. The slick sound of his hand cuts right through Harry and he moans, feels his orgasm in the pit of his stomach and doesn't fight it. He blurs out for a minute and when he comes back, Louis' hand is covered in come and he's staring at it strangely. 

"Would I lick this off my hand?" Louis asks, looking at Harry. "You know, if we did the things people thought we did?" 

"I… don't know?" Harry says, dazed. Louis' hand is covered in his come. Harry did that. 

"I don't think I would," Louis says, and then reaches out and wipes his hand off on Harry's shirt. "It was dirty already," he says to Harry's _heyyy_. 

It's quiet for a few minutes, just the sounds of the air conditioning and their breathing. Harry still can't make what just happened real in his head. What _did_ just happen? 

Harry turns on his side. His dick is still hanging out and his shirt is covered in come, but that's got nothing on how obscene Louis looks to him, cock tenting his sweats obviously. He wants to touch, wants to make Louis come too, so he reaches out and covers him with his hand for two glorious seconds. 

"Ah, I – uh, water," Louis gasps, moving much too quickly for Harry's sluggish mind. He slides off the bed, still talking. "Parched, dying, desert –" He pauses with the door partially open. "I'll see you tomorrow, and um, don't say anything." 

Harry rolls his eyes and pulls the blanket over his head.


End file.
